


Subject to Punishment

by Griffy (honklust)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: BDSM dynamics, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Dom Geoff Ramsey, Dom/sub, Drug Use, Exhibitionism, Fake AH Crew, Fucked Silly, Gangbang, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Intoxication, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, PWP, Squirting, Sub Michael Jones, Trans Jeremy Dooley, Trans Male Character, Trans Michael Jones, Voyeurism, bratty sub, initially
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22552414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honklust/pseuds/Griffy
Summary: Michael fucked up a mission because he decided to go and jerk off instead of manning his station. He "accidentally" left his Comm on.Geoff is not happy that Michael was being so irresponsible, so he arranged a little get-together to teach the other man a lesson.The rest of the Crew is more than happy to assist.
Relationships: Jeremy Dooley/Michael Jones, Michael Jones/Geoff Ramsey, Ryan Haywood/Michael Jones, jeremy dooley/michael jones/ryan haywood
Comments: 7
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is explicitly consensual although Michael is a bit hesitant at first. 
> 
> It also involves Michael being a trans man and some minor embarrassment surrounding being so exposed and vulnerable in front of the rest of the crew. As a trans man myself, I have written this in a way that makes me personally feel comfortable, but please proceed with your own level of discretion.
> 
> Geoff is high, and I know that might also be uncomfortable for people, so please keep that in mind as well.
> 
> Please mind the tags, don't read if you're under 18+, and have fun!
> 
> (This thing is a real behemoth, this first chapter is mostly Geoff-centric, the second one is Jeremy and Ryan topping so stay tuned for that.)

"No fucking way. I am not gonna take my pants off in front of all these freaks."

Michael stood just inside the doorway to the meeting room, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, his expression a cocktail of frustration and embarrassment, flush burning high on his freckled cheeks. “Fuck that. Fuck you.”

Geoff’s tone was level - edging on amusement as he looked Michael over, his fingers twitching against his thigh. There wasn’t a smile on his face - this wasn’t a joke, after all. "Yeah, you are. Where was that modesty yesterday when you decided to go run off to shove your hand down your pants midway through a goddamned heist?"

Michael squared his shoulders, having the good sense to look indignant. "I wasn't fuckin’ jacking off _in_ _front_ of everyone!" He gestured wildly at their captive audience, his exasperated gaze bouncing across the rest of the crew. The four of them were seated around the conference room like this was a fucking _meeting_ and not the setup to some stupid, fetishy plan that Geoff had concocted.

None of them met Michael’s gaze except for Gavin, who offered him a toothy grin. He was cradling a camera in his lap. “What’s th’matter, Michael boy? Are ya nervous? We’ve all seen you with your kit off, more or less-“  
  
“I’m not fucking _nervous!_ I just think this whole thing is a bullshit idea-“  
  
“Aw, Geoffrey, we’re runnin’ a bit tight on time, right?” Gavin cut him off, scooting forward a bit, his legs kicked out in front of himself. Bastard. “Oughta get this show on the road, haven’t we?”

"Shut up, Gavin." Geoff snapped, brows furrowing. He was the boss, here, goddammit. He didn’t want Gavin’s stupid, smarmy ass to try taking the reigns.

“It’d probably be for the best if you let me do the talking.” He glared down at Gavin – it was pretty rare that Geoff actually got this minged off, although if the flush on his face meant anything, Gavin had a hunch he was more than just angry. That was fine. Gavin wouldn’t mind watching this unfold. He was just happy he wasn’t the one in trouble.

“Alright, alright. Sorry, boss.” Gavin raised a hand placatingly, settling back in his chair.

Geoff’s gaze moved across the rest of the captive audience, gauging their reactions so far, practically daring someone to say something smart.  
  
“None of this shit would have to happen if you guys could keep it in your pants for like, five fucking minutes. Let this be a lesson -- Michael’s not the only one who’s going to be subject to punishment! If any of you disobey my _direct fucking orders,_ you’ll find yourselves in this position next time.”

He turned back towards Michael, his arms crossed authoritatively as he once more looked him up and down. "Pants off. Now." He didn’t want to repeat himself.

Michael swallowed, his face red - he'd never seen Geoff get this aggressive - their boss was usually pretty chill, wasn’t he? Sure, he’d bashed a few skulls in before, and yelled at them for being idiots, and maybe he got kind of weird and jittery when he was high... but it was never this _intense._ Or… well, okay. Maybe it was just never directed _at him._

He furrowed his brows, looking genuinely upset for a second. It wasn’t that he wasn’t on board with this, really _,_ but… it was honestly kind of scary. Being on the receiving end of some kind of punishment for the first time, was… weird.

It was all new, uncomfortable territory. _“Geoff, they haven't even seen my—”_ He frowned, opting for one final plea, “I don't wanna show everyone my cunt, dude." His voice dropped low, genuine.

It wasn’t that anybody didn’t _know_ what he had in his pants. This wouldn’t be some grand, terrible outing – but it was going to be fucking embarrassing.

  
He supposed this brand of exhibitionism was supposed to be embarrassing, though.

"Well, maybe you should've thought about that before, huh? It's not like we couldn't all hear you fucking yourself over the comm system." Geoff closed the space between them, his eyes dark and wild. Even so, his hand was gentle on Michael’s forearm. Asking a silent question.

Michael came to two separate realizations at once - one of those being that Geoff was completely high off his ass, and the other being that he wasn’t getting out of this by arguing or pleading. If he actually wanted to leave, he was sure that he could, but… But he knew he’d have to say it outright.

He’d sort of suspected that, though, hadn’t he?

Geoff’s fingers moved from stroking Michael’s bicep, instead curled around the buckle of the younger man’s belt, fumbling it open with a few clumsy, harsh tugs. If Michael wasn’t going to do what he asked and get naked, he’d do it his damn self. He had to do everything around here, anyway.

Michael swallowed thickly, but didn't dare swat Geoff's hands away. He could feel the weird, high-strung frustration bubbling under the surface of his boss’s frantic motions, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t hot. There was a tension in being so close to someone so strung out – like standing inches from a livewire.

He felt his face grow warmer, the tips of his ears cast in scarlet as Geoff's nimble, inked fingers undid his belt and then his jeans, roughly tugging his pants down his thighs. "Fuck, Geoff-- Okay, okay, I’ll get it from there. Thank you. Christ.”

He inhaled slowly, looked up at the other man with a crooked, sarcastic smile. “I don’t see how this is gonna be entertaining for the rest of these fucks, though. I mean. There’s not much here to look at.”

Geoff backed off once he had Michael's pants pulled down past his thighs, letting out a derisive snort. "You kidding me, dude? You and me and all these motherfuckers,” Geoff gestured to the sweaty, silent audience, “we all know you’re hot shit. If you didn’t think you were worth fucking you wouldn’t be putting yourself out there so much, would you?”

Michael felt his heart skip a beat, grinding his teeth together as he shifted from one foot to the other. After another second, he deigned to kick his shoes off and shove his pants the rest of the way down his legs, standing back up in his boxer-briefs. Being naked in front of the Crew wasn’t a big deal - wasn’t like they weren’t all naked when they respawned anyways – but… being the center of all of their attention was certainly new.

He was finding that he liked it a lot. Geoff’s words echoed inside his skull, full of implication.

Gavin whistled from where he was sitting, camera now raised to his face, and Michael shot him a glare and stuck out his tongue. The other lad gave him a nasty little grin, flipping him off against the side of the lens. “C’mon now, luv, give us a proper show! Don’t be mingy.”

While Gavin was being annoying as usual (a small, warm comfort in this unusual setting), Jeremy was looking at him in a way that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

He was staring back at him like a starving animal - his eyes blown dark and wide, his jaw set tight like he was getting ready to fucking pounce on him, his hands balled up into fists against his thick thighs. He looked hungry, muscles tensed. Ready to _take._ Michael had seen that look before. He’d seen it during heists. It was unspeakably intense to have it directed at him.

Geoff made a soft noise, a little cough to encourage him to keep going, and Michael startled out of his haze briefly. “Shit, uh, okay.” He mumbled, straightening up a bit before, finally, peeling his boxers off and pushing them all the way down his legs. He kicked them towards Gavin with a derisive snort, lifting his chin. No big deal. He wasn’t scared of these guys, anyway. He’d take whatever punishment Geoff gave him and move on with his life.

"Hope you idiots enjoy the show, cuz it’s all you’re ever gonna get." He snapped, a cocky smirk on his face. Nobody in the room believed that, but… If he stopped protesting, it would ruin the mood, right? He couldn’t get punished if he suddenly got a little too into it.

He hopped up on the table, wincing as his ass-skin made contact with the cold surface. He still had his shirt on, but he spread his scar-dappled legs, let everyone in the room take a good, _long_ look at his cunt. He felt his whole chest grow warm and flushed as he settled in the knowledge that every one of his friends was ogling him like a piece of meat.

Geoff parted his lips, his cock twitching just a little in his pants. This wasn't the first time he’d seen Michael naked, but it was the first time he had seen him like this - blushing, voluntarily showing off for the crew. And he looked pretty fucking tasty. But… No. No, he couldn’t get distracted. This was a punishment first! If he just had sex with him, he’d be encouraging his behavior. He needed to make a point.

"Stop talking and start touching yourself." He ordered, ignoring the waver in his own voice as he settled off to the side with his arms crossed. He had a pretty good view from here - could see the sweat starting to bead on Michael’s forehead.

Gavin angled his camera up a bit to get a nice clear shot of Michael's cunt, shifting so he was sitting with his ass almost slipping out of the chair. "God, yeh. That’s it, boy. Everyone wants to see." He giggled, taking an immense amount of joy out of Michael being in trouble. Usually _he_ was the one getting punished for fucking up heists!

Besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t had his nose buried between Michael’s legs before -- he was entitled to tease him more than the others were, anyway.

Michael made direct eye contact with the lens of the camera, giving Gavin the best death-glare he could muster before slipping a hand down his stomach, grabbing the hem of his shirt and tugging it up. He flashed him his tits – small and fuzzy, accented only by how strong his shoulders were – before dropping the fabric back down.

He didn’t know if anyone was really going to _enjoy_ this - he wasn’t anything special, just some naked dude - but he could feel their eyes on his skin regardless. Maybe he’d be able to get off, and maybe nobody would mention this tomorrow.

He could dream.

He slid his hand down lazily across his cunt, thumb dragging at the hem of his t-shirt, and caught his cock between two of his knuckles. He started to stroke himself, nice and slow, a little shaky. He was trying not to make eye contact with anyone, his eyes drifting down and over to Geoff's legs. Just dress pants. Nothing special. Nothing... nothing particularly hot about those nice shiny shoes. Certainly not.

He wasn’t imagining what it’d be like to have Geoff step on him with those nice, hard rubber soles. He definitely was not thinking about watching him stride across the room, pull back just to kick him in the stomach. And most importantly, he definitely wasn’t thinking about how it’d look to watch someone cum across that nice, shiny black leather-

He whined, and then caught himself. "Fuck." Now was not the time for him to dive headfirst into thinking about his fucking _shoe_ fetish. Jesus Christ.

Geoff found it fun watching Michael squirm and look around the room, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone in particular. He wondered briefly - his overheated brain racing - if he should force Michael to look at him, but... actually… Well, Michael was staring at something, wasn’t he?

Staring at his feet. Or his shoes. Or something.

And then he _moaned_ , and it didn't look like his hand was doing anything particularly _special_. Just sliding up and down along the short length of his cock.

Was... Michael into his shoes or something? Geoff looked down, noticing that he was wearing one of his more expensive pairs today-- black and shiny with a nice, pointed gold toe. Huh. Interesting. He extended his foot just a bit, letting his pant leg ride up to show off just a peek of his sock-covered ankle. A little experiment.

A soft little whine escaped Michael’s lips before he could choke it off.

God, Geoff had such stupid, expensive, nice shoes, and those pretty, bony ankles... He swallowed, feeling arousal start to properly swell in his stomach. He kept his eyes down, away from the audience that was starting to mumble among themselves - he could hear Jeremy snickering maliciously - and focused on the nice, shiny slope of that loafer.

Jesus. If he was going to get off to Geoff’s _footwear_ , then so fucking be it. Couldn’t be any more embarrassing than getting off in front of all of his friends, anyway.

“You alright there, Michael?” Geoff piped up, shifting in place again, like he was fucking showing off. “Seem a little… distracted. Don’t forget to give the boys a nice show.”

A hot, fresh wave of embarrassment washed over him and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, tilting his head back with a low moan that drew more than a few interested noises from the gang in front of him. “Shit.” He mumbled, catching his lower lip between his teeth and slipping his fingers lower, scooting back on the table so he could really spread himself open. He rubbed the flat of his hand across his cunt, spreading himself just a little, giving Gavin and his camera a _very_ nice view.

He was reminded of that camera when Gavin made a low, pleased noise, tapping his foot against the floor. “Yeah, that’s it, boy, juuuuust like that.”

“Fuck _offf,_ Gavin,” He whined, although he didn’t move to close his legs again. Just kept touching himself, his face so hot it felt like it might actually be on fire. He wanted to cum. If he could get off once, he’d feel so much _better._

"Aw, c'mon! Don't get pissy with me just cuz you're in trouble, Michael." He giggled, watching the camera instead of what was actually in front of him. Geoff never told him to film, but, well, he would never pass up an opportunity like this. That, and he was sure that Michael wouldn't actually be mad. Wasn’t like he hadn’t filmed them before.

The three other Crew members were starting to get a little bolder themselves - Jeremy and Ryan having leaned in closer to one another, muttering obscenities amongst themselves. Michael couldn’t hear everything, but he did catch Jeremy’s low, growling voice, say something along the lines of, “God, I wanna wreck that cunt.”  
  
And then Jack - her eyes glittering with warm sarcasm - leaned forward in her seat, propping one hand up under her chin. “Getting a little flushed there, huh, Michael? Might actually work up a sweat on this one, huh?”

Michael's eyes lifted from the bony curve of Geoff's ankle to Jack's face, his heart skipping a beat at the ever-so-kind little smirk he found there. She was the fucking worst about that - playing innocent while also bullying the shit out of everyone. Christ. "M'fine, Jack, thanks for fucking asking." He grumbled, his voice low and scratchy.

He was hesitating still - Fingering himself felt… weirdly intimate, all of a sudden, and he found himself faltering in his motions. Sweating and flushed, he glanced up at Geoff, distractedly grinding his palm against his cock. "Are we done here? You- You've fucking embarrassed me. Congrats. I learned my lesson.”

"Nope. You never got a chance to finish yesterday, so you're going to do it here."

Even though Geoff was trying to play it cool, there was a little tremor to his voice. It was exciting just to be so aggressive and commanding... maybe he should do this more often. He was the boss, after all. "Finger yourself.”

"I-" He went to protest, but faltered. How far did he want to push it, arguing with Geoff? It was kind of thrilling, now that he was over the initial shock. A little out of the norm, certainly, but... He'd be lying if he said just the tone of Geoff’s voice wasn't getting him wet. "Why should I?" He argued, swallowing down the tremble in his throat and puffing his chest up. He even had the gall to smirk at him. He wanted a fight.

"Because I'm in charge." Geoff scowled, straightening his shoulders and rounding on the other man, his voice dropping deadly quiet. "You don't have a lot of, uh, bargaining power here, considering that everyone’s ogling your cunt like a choice cut of meat." He gestured towards the four Fakes behind himself.

"And..." Geoff bent down at the waist, reaching for the hem of his pant leg and pulling it up slowly. Michael’s mouth went dry as he saw the tight curve of a nice grey sock wrapped around a toned calf - and the sleek black knife holster strapped around that.

Geoff unsheathed the weapon in a smooth, practiced motion and returned to his full height, pointing the knife towards Michael. "I wouldn't make this more difficult than it needs to be."

He was right, wasn’t he?

Michael had never once stopped noticing the weight of the eyes on his skin, and every second he spent with his legs spread felt like another second closer to one of them finally fucking jumping him.

A sharp little thrill of fear raced down his spine when he glanced over to the others once again - finally took stock of the deep, heavy hunger in each of their eyes. It was like they were all just waiting for the command -- waiting for Geoff to loosen their leashes and allow them to fall on him like a pack of hungry dogs.

And what if he ordered them to hurt him instead of fuck him? Hold him down while he _really_ punished the errant Lad --

There were a lot of possibilities that played through his head, each one more dangerous than the last, but his brain was sent flatlining by the sight of that sleek, shiny blade pointed at him. It glittered under the fluorescents, pinched delicately between Geoff's shaking, inked digits. Feverishly, he thought that maybe he wanted Geoff to hurt him, actually.

Instead of begging or whining, he managed to hold his composure and snorted indignantly, tossing his head back, gingery curls flopping against his sweaty forehead. "What, ya gonna stab me if I don't fuck myself? C'mon _daddy_ , is that it? I'm not scared of you or any of these other fucking idiots. Ain’t like I haven’t been stabbed before--”

"No, no." He smiled, holding the knife loosely in his hand, limply waving it in Michael’s direction. "I know you're not afraid, but you _are_ pretty damn eager to please."

Michael was always a huge kiss-ass, even back when he was a scared, untrusting kid from the streets of Los Santos. Every plan that Geoff made, Michael was the first to be enthusiastically on board. Every joke that Geoff made, Michael would laugh the loudest - even the particularly shitty ones. Michael was begging for someone to boss him around, to give him attention, even if he wasn't all that aware of it.

Geoff stepped towards Michael, his nice leather shoes clicking against the tiles of their meeting room, and bent down to grab Michael's jaw in his spare, inked hand. "See, buddy, I know that you're going to do whatever I say. And that’s because you _want_ to do it. Isn’t that right?" He stared down into Michael’s eyes, watching him shiver and squirm in his grasp.

Michael swallowed thickly, past the lump in his throat. God, Geoff was _right_ , wasn't he? There was no denying the tremor that ran through his entire body when Geoff spoke to him like this - the way the command in his voice made him want to melt right through the floorboards. He wanted to make him happy, wanted to please him until he got the praise he deserved.

Fuck, he was so fucked. And... and everyone could see it, couldn't they? See the way he melted into Geoff's firm grip around his jaw, see his pretty eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks -- _Jesus, when had he become such a bitch?_

He drew a long, shaky inhale and slipped his hand lower, spreading his legs lewdly against the side of the table and leaning back as much as Geoff's touch would allow, putting on a real performance as he slid his fingers down, pushed two of them into himself with a long, low whine. "God...Geoff, please-"

If he was going to be a bitch, he might as well commit to it.

The sound of Michael's fingers sliding into his warm, wet cunt was so, so perfect. Nice and lewd and slick sounding. How fitting. "C'mon. Fuck yourself real good for the boys." He turned Michael's head, forcing him to look out at his audience. Everyone was so fucking transfixed on what he was doing to himself. Perfect.

"Let this be a lesson to the rest of you." He growled, looking at his subordinates, fingers still tight on Michael’s jaw. Michael had cast his gaze a little lower - almost subservient. The flush on his cheeks had never been darker.

"I'm in charge here, alright? Without me, the whole lot of you would be dead on the fucking _streets_. So I _suggest you all start listening better._ " Geoff sneered, eyes flickering up from Michael to the rest of the crew and the hungry, hungry looks on their faces.

Michael didn't want to look at them - it was still so fucking intense, the idea that they could all see him doing this to himself - but he kept at it. He was learning how to follow directions.

A groan spilled past his lips when Geoff spoke, leaning towards his boss like he was going to fall over as he started fucking himself properly - nice, slow grinds where his palm rubbed across his cock and his fingers curled up into his cunt just right. "D-Do you want me t'cum, boss?"

Ah, there we go. Sounded like Michael was finally put in his place. Good. "Depends. Are you about to?" He asked, his grip firm on Michael’s jaw, eyes wild with unfettered power.

"I-If you keep talkin' I will." He admitted softly, hooking his fingers in deeper and humping clumsily up against his palm with a sharp, shuddery groan. Already so fucking close.

"Hm, well," Geoff smiled, cold and slimy, then turned towards the rest of his crew. "Whaddaya say, boys? Should we let Michael cum?" He waited for a second, but no one dared to break the silence. Well - silent except for the squishing, soaked sound of Michael fucking himself.

Geoff frowned, then slammed his palm against the table. "COME ON! Where's the excitement, my _lovely_ fakes?! Should we let him cum?!" His smile had turned into a grimace - expression nothing but barely contained, manic fury.

Michael startled at the unhinged, authoritative tone of Geoff’s voice. His arm nearly gave out, his butt slipping forward towards the edge of the table, a stupid little squeak escaping him as he wound up more-or-less settled back on one elbow, staring up at the ceiling, fingers still making wet, squishy noises as he fucked himself. It was so… so fucking intense, so much filthier than anything else he’d ever done.

The rest of the crew was equally startled when Geoff shouted at them, the air in the room seeming to shift. Geoff didn’t get like, actually, seriously angry with them very often, and it was a not-so-gentle reminder of why exactly he was Kingpin in the first place.

Jeremy, interestingly enough, was the first to speak up. "God, I dunno, boss. S'that really much of a punishment?" His dark eyes raked over Michael's prone form, taking a slow step forward. For the newest Crew member, he was certainly acting pretty bold. "Maybe we, uh- I mean, _you_ , sir, oughta keep him on the edge for a lil bit."

Gavin piped up then, angling the camera back a bit to get Jeremy and Geoff in the shot a little better. A dedication to cinematography. "Yeh, Geoffrey. Can't let him off too easily, can we?"

Geoff turned to Jeremy, his smile wide, bouncing on his heels a little. Okay, maybe he’d rubbed a _little_ coke into his gumline before he’d gotten to the meeting room – so what? Who cares! He was having a damn good time.

"That's an excellent idea, Jeremy!"

He turned back to Michael, grabbing his hand and pulling his palm away from his cock. They couldn't have Michael finishing too soon, could they? It was just like Jeremy said – if he got off easy, he wouldn’t really be receiving a punishment. Just a quick orgasm.

Michael involuntarily whined at the sudden loss of contact, the cool air from the vents brushing across his slick skin, sending goosebumps racing across his legs. "No, no- Fuck, please, I was so close!"

Luckily, Michael's fingers were almost immediately replaced by Geoff's. He wasn’t particularly gentle – shoving two fingers into his dripping cunt, other hand pressing down on one of his thighs as he did so. “Bet you like that a lot better, huh?” He cooed, angling his palm so that he could _ensure_ that it didn’t rub against his swollen cock while he fingered him.

Jeremy made a little growling noise in the back of his throat, like his excitement was turning him fucking feral, rolling his jaw a little. His dick was really rubbing up against the inside of his boxers, but he knew better than to make a move without being told to – he felt lucky enough that Geoff hadn’t told him to step back, had allowed him to be closer to the action.

Michael flattened his slick palms against the tabletop, squirming a little to try and get better purchase – move into a position where he didn’t feel like he was going to fall into the floor. He whined, scooching back and hooking his heel up on the edge of the table to try and steady himself.

Geoff was fingering him like he was on a _mission,_ his actions steady and methodical, searching for something inside Michael’s cunt – trying his best to find the spot that was going to make him lose his shit.

And then Geoff’s fingers pressed roughly against his g-spot and he let out a sharp, startled sob, head falling back against the table. "Fuuuuck, Geoff, _pleaaaaase_ -"

"Shut up." He snapped, continuing to rub up against the wall of Michael's cunt, a nasty little smirk on his face. There was a brief thought that maybe, maybe, this had gotten a bit out of hand. Actually, it was probably already a stupid idea in the first place. Oh well! Couldn’t rightly back out now, could he?

Literally nobody else in the room thought this has ever been in hand in the first place.

It was a wild situation, one that everyone seemed to be reveling in, now that things had settled. There was probably some shift in rank here, some allowance that hadn't been present before. Sure, most of them had screwed each other on occasion, but this was... a new thing. A dangerous thing, perhaps.

Realistically, this was all probably inevitable -- maybe being immortal had been wearing down their morals bit by bit, or maybe they’d never had them in the first place.

Michael let out a long, desperate whine, clapping his hand against his lips in an effort to do as he was told and be quiet. He was so fucking close, all he needed was a little more, a little bit of stimulation on his dick-- He fumbled at himself, clumsy, mostly just grabbing Geoff's wrist as the pressure inside him seemed to build to an impossible, untouchable climax.

Geoff hummed at the hand on his arm, "Ah-ah-ah. No, no. If you’re going to cum, you’re gonna do it on my fingers.” He peeled his hand away, instead curling his fingers within his own, grinding his knuckles down against the space above his bladder where Geoff had been resting his hand previously.

"You feel that? Feel my fingers inside you?"

"Fuck-" he choked out, fingers clenching against his own cheek before Geoff tugged his hand away from his mouth. His grip was surprisingly gentle despite how firm it was - guiding him without Michael putting up much protest.

He swallowed thickly, letting his eyes slip shut for a moment. He could _hear_ Geoff's fingers moving inside him, feel just how completely soaked he was. There was a pressure building low in his stomach, like he had to piss-- and god, _“holy shit…”_ His voice went breathless, feeling the subtle curve of Geoff’s fingertips, feel them pushing up against his own hand through his skin.

And then the pressure suddenly got _much_ heavier, and he recognized the feeling – caught somewhere between the kind of pleasure that made him want to curl his toes and the feeling of intensely needing to pee.

"Fuck! St-stop, stop, I'm-" his knees knocked together, thighs vice-like around Geoff's arm as he honest to god begged him, tears beading up at the corners of his eyes. "Stop, Geoff, I'm gonna p-piss myself or somethinnnnng--"

There was absolutely no way that Geoff was going to stop.

"C'mon, now!" He laughed, dangerous and coked up, sweat high on his forehead. The hand that was pressing Michael's hand into his belly moved to pull his knees apart, his other hand still wriggling inside of him, drawing out wet, sloppy little sounds. His fingers burned and cramped, but he could hardly feel them, not with the dominant energy and the drugs coursing through his veins.

He didn't stop, even when he felt warm liquid splashing up against his wrist.

"G-Geoff please-" He let out a sharp sob, his dull nails digging into Geoff's wrist as his hips stuttered forward, bucking against his palm helplessly as he came -- his head knocking back against the table as hot tears started to drip down his cheeks. He’d only ever squirted like, once, before but the rush of warm fluid down the crease of his ass and his thighs made it more than apparent what had happened.

Gavin was having a fucking field day. This tape was shaping up to be one of the best recordings he'd ever made! "Oh, luv, lookit that splash! So lovely..."

Ryan and Jeremy were sort of leaning on each other, the Battle Buddies using every last modicum of strength to keep from touching Michael. "Jesus," Ryan whispered, his tone dripping with an almost sympathetic awe. "You're gonna kill him, man."

The sight of Michael squirting against his palm gave him a high that was on level with the coke he rubbed into his gums earlier. Fuck. That was so hot. Geoff continued to finger Michael as he twitched and quivered below him, every movement of his fingers drawing another little splash of cum out of him.

Then, after it seemed that Michael had run out of cum (and Geoff's fingers finally started to ache a little too much), he pulled the soaked digits out of him, letting the liquid drip down onto Michael's heaving belly. Ha ha.

"Damn, I didn't think you had it in you to be a top." Jack laughed behind him, fully enjoying the show. She might not be particularly attracted to either of the men on display, but she could certainly appreciate the eroticism of it. Maybe she should watch her teammates screw each other more often.

Michael let out a deep, relieved sob as Geoff finally, finally released him. His thighs were visibly trembling, body gone weak and boneless against the table. He was sitting in a puddle of his own cum, the tiles below him slick and wet, his cock hard and swollen in its little nest of fuzz.

The aftershocks kept him occasionally shuddering, his eyes drifting up to look at his boss standing over him.

And then Jeremy moved in closer, glancing sideways at Geoff as he put a broad, firm hand on Michael's knee. "Can I have a go at the slut, Boss? Figure he's got a little more fight left. I'd love to wring it out of him."

A shudder ran down Michael’s spine as he saw the dark, hungry look in Jeremy’s eyes. It was a familiar look – one that reminded him of watching the guy break people’s necks. Christ.

Geoff frowned for a moment, wiping his hand off on Michael's shirt as he considered that offer.

"No. Not yet." His subordinates had already watched Michael make an example out of himself, but Geoff wasn't entirely convinced that he had shown off his own authority enough. He had to claim his fucking kill.

Geoff manhandled Michael up off the table – his legs shaking so badly he could barely support himself – and flipped him around. He pushed him forward, bending him over the edge so he could slide his hand down his back, grab a nice handful of his ass.

Michael shivered when he heard Geoff unzip his nice black slacks, his eyes fluttering shut. “Christ…” He mumbled, pushing his palms down against the flat surface below himself.

Geoff took his time – leisurely undoing his slacks and fishing his cock out of the hole in his boxers, sliding the flat of his thumb across the shiny, slick head of his cock, the silver ring under his frenulum glittering in the light.

Everyone seemed to have been cowed by Geoff's sudden assertive streak - and Jeremy was certainly included in that. He took an obedient step back out of the way, his breathing heavy as he watched his Boss - one of the most powerful men in the city - manhandle Michael's lovely, prone body.

Almost involuntarily, Michael rocked backwards, sweaty forehead pressed into the smooth wood of the table. He felt overheated and overstimulated, but there was something special about it - about being completely wrecked and left at the mercy of his fellow Fakes - and most importantly, at the mercy of his boss.

Geoff nudged his warm cockhead against his soaked cunt and he let out a sinful little moan, the sound echoing in the space between his lips and the table, steaming up the hardwood. Part of him wanted to squirm away from him, his cunt sore and throbbing and oversensitive.

Instead, though, he just let out a high, pathetic whine that shifted into something like a sob as he felt the cool, firm ridge of Geoff's cock piercing grinding against his sensitive flesh. And then – so suddenly - his boss was hilted in his cunt, the fabric of his pants pressed against his soft, giving ass, the muscles in his lower back spasming and twitching. "Ph...Please..." He managed, voice thick with spit. "Please, Geoff, I can-"

"Shut up!" Geoff growled, grabbing a handful of Michael's curly, auburn locks. He yanked his head back, using the contact as leverage to thrust himself in and out of his soaked, aching cunt. Fuck, Michael felt good, and it felt good to finally get his dick wet after usually just taking Gavin's stupid cock. Maybe after this Gavin would let him top him. Ha! Maybe…

Michael made a startled, choked off little scream when Geoff grabbed him by the hair. Even Gavin didn't usually get this rough with him, and the angle of his head had his muscles burning all the way down his chest. He scrabbled at the table for purchase, doing everything in his power just to stay upright while Geoff used him.

And everyone... Everyone could see it. See him getting his cunt stretched, see Geoff ramming his sweaty, trembling body like he was nothing but a toy.

It was kind of intoxicating, even if he could feel the barest trickle of fear welling up inside him – the kind of out-of-control adrenaline that he lived for. Geoff could do anything to him like this… And nobody would dare step up to stop him.

But then Jack was there - she'd rounded the table quietly, and had a soft, cool hand pressed against Michael's cheek as she leaned forward, her smile cold and cruel.

"How's that feel, buddy? Bet you're pretty embarrassed. Everyone's really, really enjoying watching our good ol boss stretch you out like a cheap fleshlight. Ain't that right, boys?"

"Oi, get your fat bloody arse out of the way! You're blockin' the shot!" Gavin squawked, his hand flapping in front of him in a shooing motion. He'd admit that Jack's dialogue was pretty damn hot, but the woman had absolutely no eye for cinematography! He wanted this to be all one continuous shot, dammit! Felt more candid that way, and he couldn’t get that if she was trotting around in front of him.

Geoff was also getting a little annoyed with Jack, although he had a harder time bossing her around than he did the other members of the Fakes. "Don't fucking touch him. Right now he's mine." He emphasized his point with a hard thrust, knocking Michael's dick against the edge of the table. With every thrust, the warm metal ring pierced through his cock ground so nicely against the most sensitive parts of his erection, and he bet it felt just as nice for Michael.

He wondered if he could get him to cum without having his dick touched again.

Jack scowled, glancing back at Gavin for a moment before rolling her eyes. "You can get up too, dumbass. Might be nice to get a close up on his pretty little face." She obeyed Geoff's orders not to touch Michael, but she did spare him one more cruel little grin before stepping sideways out of Gavin's stupid way.

Michael was shuddering, Jack's words echoing in his head. Everyone could see him getting used like this. These people wouldn't forget - they'd know every day that he was this easy to break, to turn into a needy slut. Every time they went on a heist together, or to dinner, or even just in the penthouse… Fuck.

He rolled his head forward as much as he could, raising his ass a little bit - submissive and feverish. "Hh...Geoff?" His voice was thick and drooly, like he was drunk. "Am I-- I being good?"

Gavin frowned, then reluctantly got up out of his seat to get a better angle on the action. Tch. He didn't need any of Jack's bloody advice-- he knew what he was doing...

Even still, he slid around behind Geoff, getting a nice good shot of Geoff's cock sliding in out of Michael. Damn, what a sight. It was actually pretty exciting for Gavin to film his bitch actually taking charge and fucking someone instead of getting fucked and crying about it. Not that he didn’t like making Geoff cry. The crying was cute.

He slowly moved around the table, kneeling to get a shot of lovely Michael's face, filming every gasp and furrow of his brows. "Awww, you having fun, Michael boy? Looks real top from my end." He cooed, zooming in on Michael's lovely fucked-stupid expression. What a bloody money shot that was!

Geoff yanked Michael's head back again, giving Gavin a real nice shot of his neck straining against the force of the pull, throat bobbing. "Yeah, you're bein' a real good boy, Michael Hah-- Looks like you really learned your lesson." He panted, already edging near his own climax. Fuck, it felt so good to be Kingpin.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-- Geoff, fuck-" Michael let out a sharp series of desperate little gasps, his body tensing up as a second orgasm racked through him like an earthquake. His whole body spasmed, the muscles in his lower back visibly tensing as he tightened up around Geoff's cock, grinding the warm curve of his piercing up against the inside of his already sore cunt. He shuddered and gasped, hips bucking forward, like he was trying to get away from him one more time, dull nails digging into the tabletop.

His eyes rolled clear back in his head, his jaw dropping as a low, helpless moan spilled out of his lips. He'd sweated clean through his shirt at this point, and his chest was heaving, but he couldn't do anything but lay in Geoff's firm grip and take whatever he was giving him, despite the fact that he was getting so oversensitive that he could feel a tight cramp coiling in his gut. "Phhh.....Please, I can't—Geoff! Geoff, I-I’m gonna—”

Geoff continued to slam forward into Michael as he writhed and came all over his cock, spraying his nice dress pants with more cum, albeit less this time. "Ahh, _Fuck_ \--" He grabbed two handfuls of Michael's hips, forcing him all the way down on his cock as own orgasm coursed through him, a not-very-dominant shuddering gasp escaping his mouth. Geoff kinda forgot that his subordinates would be watching _him_ , too. Fuck.

Still, there was nothing nicer than a coked-up orgasm. He held Michael close to him as his cock twitched, filling Michael's cunt up with cum. He was... pretty sure that Michael couldn't get pregnant. Ha ha.

After a long, blissful moment, he pulled out of Michael with a little hiss, the high from both the coke and the orgasm finally starting to come down. He stroked a damp hand through the other man’s curls, affectionate and clumsy, and dropped him flat on his stomach on the table.

"Have at him, boys. Enjoy your sloppy seconds." He panted, authoritative but still breathless, then slumped back down in his original chair, content to watch Jeremy and Ryan have their way with Michael.

Maybe have a cigarette.


	2. Personal Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a brief commentary on my fics in general, my feelings on the Occurrence and progress going forward.
> 
> In this fic specifically the next chapter will likely have character locations/actions changing in a way that may be incongruous with the previous chapter. I appreciate your patience.
> 
> Chapter 2 should be up tomorrow!

Just as a minor update - I probably will keep posting and updating FAHC fics intermittently because I’ve invested a lot of personal time and work into them as characters -- fundamentally, I’ve always kind of considered the Fakes to be fictional entities heavily influenced by fandom interpretation in the first place.

All that said, I am NOT making excuses for what happened. I’m just as heartbroken and disgusted as everyone else and I’ve spent a lot of time since the news broke reassessing myself, my feelings, and my relationships with fiction and fandom in general.

The Vagabond especially was a character I had grown deeply, deeply attached to and I’ve spent a lot of time trying to decide what exactly I want to do about that.

I guess the conclusion I’ve come to is that he’s an OC of my own from this point out - a conglomerate of the things I enjoyed about his character all along and things I feel work in the plot of whatever I’m writing at the time. 

I imagine there will be a fair number of vent fics written with him in them in the near future but anything containing violent or disturbing themes will be appropriately tagged and CWed as always.

I hope you’re all doing well and taking care of yourselves. I plan on updating a few things tonight/tomorrow morning and I appreciate all the comments and hits I’ve received while I’ve been gone. You guys don’t know how much it means to me. 

Thanks so much for reading, and if anyone ever wants to reach out to talk headcanons or AH or anything, please feel free to DM me on twitter @ laughopmet.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. As always, comments and kudos are wildly appreciated!!


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